


Eye Of The Tiger

by TheLadyOfManyFandoms



Series: Winchestered One-Shots [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sibling Bonding, angelic confusion, jam Session, microphones made of anything and everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3239579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyOfManyFandoms/pseuds/TheLadyOfManyFandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your brothers have left you in the Bunker on your lonesome. Let the fun commence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye Of The Tiger

**Author's Note:**

> This is the product of listening to Eye of the Tiger while trying to sleep. I do hope you enjoy! Remember, I love your comments! ^.^

The Bunker was empty since Dean and Sam had taken up a case two towns away leaving behind only a note,

_We’re going on a case two towns out. I was going to wake you up but Sam threatened Baby if I did. We’ll call you when we get there and keep you posted.  
P.s Hands off my pie!_

It had been four days since they left and you had done everything you could think of. You helped Castiel on a three-day case nearby, scanned the local area for the supernatural, had a brilliant conversation with Garth over the phone, and watched some classic movies. 

Now, you had run out things to do. 

You switched on the radio in the library and looked around for something entertaining. You could read up on some old Men of Letters files but, for it to hold your interest, you needed pie, hot chocolate and your brothers providing motivation. 

Growing bored very quickly; you sat at the table and drummed you fingers to the beat of the music playing through the Bunker. You frowned when you hit something small and grainy. Bringing your hand up to your face, you found pastry crumbs – specifically, the pastry used in pie.

 _Damn it, Dean!_ You cursed in your head. You couldn’t ignore the fact that the library table was filthy, so you made your way to the kitchen and pulled out the disinfectant spray under the sink. 

“Time to clean this place up.” You said to yourself. 

Two hours later, you had cleaned the entirety of the Bunker’s ground floor. You’d get Castiel to help with the top levels after the next supply run. The tables, chairs and floor spotless and squeaky clean. The amount of Borax you used was enough to make the Bunker Leviathan proof. 

You were about to take a seat when a certain music score began playing on the radio – ‘Eye of the Tiger’ by Survivor. 

Alone and free, there was no way you were going to pass up a jam session. Turning up the volume dial on the radio, you ran up to your room and scrambled at the dressing table. Grabbing a hair tie, you scrunched up your hair in a messy ponytail and took your hair brush with you as you ran back out to the railing. Just in time for the actual lyrics!

“Rising up, back on the street!” You sang out loud, using the hairbrush as your microphone “Did my time, took my chances!” 

You sang the first verse with a dramatic quality and slowly walked down the staircase while singing the second, 

“So many times, it happens too fast!” Pointing to your invisible audience (the world-map table), “You trade your passion for glory!”

You spotted the now-dry mop leaning on the side of the wall and cast aside your brush for the cleaning appliance. Taking the mop into the library, you climbed onto the table and sang into the wooden handle. 

“It’s the eye of the tiger!” You spun around and dipped the mop like a superstar, “Rising up to the challenge of our rival!”

Still singing, you got to your favourite part of the chorus. You pulled out your ponytail and ruffled it up like a rock star. You lifted the ‘mic’ as you leaned back,

“And he’s watching us all with the eye … of the tiger!” 

Your voice louder than the music itself, you paused in the stance you were in with a huge smile on your face. A smile that was wiped off instantly with the sound of someone’s laughter. 

You looked down with surprise and found Dean in hysterics, clutching his stomach with one hand while the other used Sam for support. The latter of the two brothers was sporting a goofy grin to hold back his own laughter. 

“What the – haha – what are you doing?” Dean asked in the middle of his giggle fit. You jumped off the table and turned the music down,

“I-I was cleaning.” You replied. Dean’s eyes went wide,

“You were--” he wondered with a smile and then broke out into a second wave of hysterical laughter.

“She was cleaning Sammy!” Dean chuckled. Sam nodded and cleared his throat in an attempt to control himself,

“Is this how you typically clean the Bunker?” he asked, looking at the mop in her hand. You picked up the mop and prodded Sam in the chest with the handle,

“Yes, you got a problem?” You challenged. Sam chuckled and shook his head, lifting his hands up in defence,

“No, it’s cool.” He smiled. There was a flutter of wings beside Dean, indicating that Castiel had arrived. He smiled at first but then scrunched up his nose,

“Why does it smell like Borax in here?”


End file.
